My Chubby Wife (S4) ep 2

6 Months later

A Small Café, Seoul Outskirts

Rain lashed against the tin roof of a worn-out little café near a quiet neighborhood street. Inside, Kim Taehyung, now three months pregnant, sat behind the counter—wiping plates, polishing cups, and forcing himself not to cry as his back ached and nausea came in waves.

The café owner, Mrs. Kang, an elderly woman in her late 60s with a tough exterior and kind heart, watched him silently. She’d taken him in after seeing him collapsed outside her shop weeks ago.

“You need to eat something,” she finally said, placing a hot bowl of soup in front of him.

kim taehyung/young age

Taehyung shook his head. “Not until I finish wiping all the shelves.”

“You’re barely standing.”

kim taehyung/young age

“I’ll earn it,” he whispered. “I don’t want handouts.”

Mrs. Kang’s eyes softened. Prideful, polite, hardworking. A rare kind of omega. She remembered watching him tremble in the cold, refusing even a blanket until he helped clean her porch first.

She walked over and gently tugged the rag from his hand. “Then work smarter. Eat. Rest. You can do more if you stay on your feet longer.”

kim taehyung/young age

Taehyung’s lips trembled. “Thank you.”

For the next few months, he worked tirelessly. Cleaning during the day, helping cook at night. Slowly, his figure became heavier—rounder from pregnancy. The fatigue weighed on him, but the fire in his eyes never dimmed.

What Taehyung didn’t know, however, was that his every step was being watched.

Across the street, in an old black van with tinted windows, a man sat quietly with binoculars. Jeon Namjoon’s personal agent. He logged every shift, every delivery, every odd stare Taehyung received from customers or passersby.

Taehyung thought he was alone. But someone was always watching.

He thought Jungkook had cut him off completely. But Namjoon made a vow to protect him—even if his own son failed to.

. ..

It was well past midnight, and the streets outside the little café were silent except for the occasional hiss of wind and the hum of passing cars.

Inside the café, dim yellow lights cast long shadows. Kim Taehyung was wiping the last of the tables, sweat clinging to his brow, his breathing heavier than usual. His swollen belly trembled beneath the oversized apron tied around his waist. Nine months. Any moment now.

kim taehyung/young age

He placed a hand gently over his bump, whispering softly, “Just a little more… baby. eomma’s working hard for you.”

But as he turned to put the cloth away—pain ripped through his abdomen.

His knees buckled. The rag slipped from his fingers. A loud gasp escaped him.

And then—a warm gush of liquid soaked his pants and the floor beneath him.

kim taehyung/young age

“Mrs. Kang!” he screamed, his voice trembling in panic.

kim taehyung/young age

“It’s time!”